No Illusions
by SerendipitySnape08
Summary: Lord Jace, the beautiful one, and his sister, Lady Maureen, the quiet one join the mysterious Lady Catherine on an epic of love, heartache and self discovery. Aided by gifts beyond their imaginations they will face more than death and darkness together.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The curve of her hips swung slightly when she walked, accented by the drape of silk over slender thighs and calves.

"Darling, the carriage is waiting!" a glance over her shoulder seemed to accentuate her haste, and her wry grin gave way to her illusive flight.

"Don't get your hose in a knot Maureen! The ceremony will not start without us." A young man rode up on a pretty chestnut mare. The stubborn set of his mouth matched that of the young woman standing before him. "Sister dear, you are a player after my own heart." His brown eyes were alight with mirth, yet another characteristic they shared.

"Milord, milady, you must not leave the fief unescorted! What would the Lady Adrianna say? Twisting a handful of apron in her pudgy little hands, a short, red-faced woman clamored down the walk towards the waiting carriage.

"Oh hush Lydia," Lady Maureen and I are more than capable of looking after ourselves!" The young lord rode up and leapt off of his mare with a flourish. "We'll be fine," he said, albeit not very convincingly, "don't worry about us, we've given you enough gray hairs already." Grasping her shoulders firmly between calloused hands he kissed her on both cheeks with a gallant bow before mounting up ad heading towards the road.

"Well, well I never…" she stuttered in indignation. "Lord Jason!" her mock cry of anger was ruined by the fist she shook at him. The other was pressed to her burning cheeks. "You will be the death of me one day!"

Lady Maureen's tinkling laughter carried across the courtyard of Fief Tieren, stopping only when she allowed herself to step into the waiting carriage.

"Finally," she said with a sigh, "now I can take off these dratted shoes!"

"Same old Mo," a voice answered snidely, "that's why I don't wear them." Another young woman dropped lightly from her perch near the roof of the carriage with a smirk. "Are you ready to have some real fun?"

The woman's arrival was met with a glare, and a shoe aimed at her head. Although she felt the wind race by after the offending article, the woman merely bared her teeth in a silent laugh. "Some things never change," she taunted smugly, "next time aim a little more to the right."

"Gods I missed you," Maureen groaned, "without you I have to take drastic measures in keeping Jace in line."

"I resent that!" retorted the man in question. "It is you who requires keeping sister."

Their mysterious guest merely continued pulling on her riding boots, ignoring her friend's child-like banter.

"So Lady Catherine, to what do we owe the bitter pleasure of your company? I know you are not planning on attending the midsummer ceremonies with us."

Jace's yelp carried when a booted foot emerged from the carriage to connect with his horse's rump.

"Same old Catherine," he muttered darkly, after getting his mount back under control.

"In all seriousness, I bring a message to the Lord and Lady of House Teiren. Queen Thayet requires your presence at the palace immediately. I have been sent to make sure that you don't get lost along the way." The quirk of her eyebrow betrayed the courier-like tone with which she spoke. She turned to Maureen with a whoop of joy, "Saddle up my friend, in two days time we will reach Port Legann, from there, we ride!"

In a moment, Maureen had her gown over her head and reached down with deft hands to secure well-used leggings.

"Glad to see that Jace didn't let you get too lazy whilst I was gone," Catherine remarked with a grin. "Tell me Mo, tell me you missed me!"

With an exasperated sigh for the use of her childhood nickname, Maureen reached down and pulled two flat daggers from the sheaths adorning her thighs and spun them experimentally.

"Sure I missed you," she snickered, "about as much as I miss my monthlies!"

"Now who's bickering?" Jace remarked snidely.

Aside from Catherine's arrival, the carriage ride was rather uneventful, and it took a substantial amount of time to reach Port Legann. Unfortunately for her two travel partners, Lady Catherine was not exactly known for her patient disposition.

"Maureen, please tell me that this is your personal carriage." Catherine couldn't help but let a hint of a whine slip into the question.

"Now Cat, why should it matter if this is my carriage or not?" Although Lady Maureen meant this statement to be a verbal parry, subtly was not known to be her strongest point and she did not excel at the art of feigning indifference.

Lord Jace choose that moment to ride up and tweak Maureen's nose.

"Jace!" she screeched, nearly tumbling off of the carriage bench as she tried to grab him, albeit unsuccessfully.

"I'll take that as a yes then?" One look at her red-faced friend had her rolling with laughter. Reaching into her travel bag, calloused hands surrendered a worn cotton handkerchief, which Maureen grabbed with manicured fingers.

"What say you my friend?" Catherine cocked her head to the side in obvious challenge. "Care to have a go? A twist of her arms sent the comfortable weight of tempered metal sliding down to sit securely in her palms.

"Show off," Maureen murmured demurely, commenting on the armbands, which held Catherine's favorite blades in place. Her own court attire did not allow for more than the two sheaths lying flat against her thighs, but her personal carriages were more than well equipped to handle trouble. Maureen slipped her hand alongside the wooden bench upon which they sat, until she felt the hidden catch. As the panel of wood behind her calves rose, Catherine's grin deepened. If the flash of steel was any indication of just how well stocked her standard mode of transportation was, than she was prepared indeed. Reaching down, Maureen grasped the handle of a long sword and passed it to the woman sitting across from her.

"It's beautiful," Catherine murmured, running her thumb along the blades edge. The application of pressure caused the cream of her flesh to split like butter.

"You've bled on it," Maureen replied with a rueful grin, "now she's yours."

Catherine's answering smile was absolutely infectious as she explored her new toy. "I dub thee Lyric!" she proclaimed, "and we shall make beautiful music together. Mo, are you up for a go?"

Maureen flexed her wrists slowly, rolling her shoulders to free muscle tension.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Catherine teasingly, with glee in her eyes. "Let's see if Jace has kept you limber!" Staring down at Maureen's tightly laced bodice, she felt a chuckle slip out over her lips.

"Laugh now," replied Maureen darkly as she pulled at the lacings. "You'll take that back in a minute!" Catherine merely smiled and leapt from the carriage interior, taking the opportunity to climb onto the roof and enjoy the view.

A few moments later say Lady Maureen making that same trek to the roof, outfitted in a loose fitting cotton blouse and leather jerkin over breaches and well-used boots. A naked sword hung in her hand, and she looked far more comfortable than in her silk ceremonial gown.

Lord Jace laughed comfortably from his position outside of the carriage. He was used to his sister's love of adventuring, and knew that she was more than able to take care of herself. _Besides,_ he found himself thinking, _now that there are two of them, it's worth a few extra pains to keep them happy. A woman with a sword was bad enough, but two sisters of his… _His thoughts trailed off, _that was simply too much to handle!_

Almost as if the girls had intruded upon his inner musings, a flying dagger nearly clipped his ear, pulling off his riding cap with a whistle.

"Mithros!" he swore, glancing towards the carriage. The girls had begun a match, jumping and whirling upon the roof of the carriage in an intricate dance. A sheen of sweat hung upon Catherine's forehead, while Maureen laughed with joy at her poor attempt to parry a blow to the chest.

"Jace, be a dear and pass back my dagger," Catherine called down, trying to catch her breath, "I seem to have dropped it!"

He reached down to pick up his hat and placed the dagger in his own scabbard. "And give you more tools with which to use against me? I think not!" His heart longed to join them in their game, but he did not trust the woods through which they were riding.

A canopy of trees gave way to rays of sun warming their backs and necks, but the forest of oak and cedar rose dauntingly on either side of their small party. Lord Jace had brought with them neither mail, nor men at arms, counting only on Lady Maureen's man servant Philippe, and his own man, Ralon. The two had been with them since their births, and were undoubtedly loyal to the siblings and to House Tieren.

The men in question sat in the front of the carriage, reigns in hand, talking of Port Legann and political intrigue. Hand picked by their father, his Grace, the Duke Aaron of Tieren, the men had received their training under the tutelage of none other then the Provost himself. Philippe had worked fifteen years in the inner city, and had seen more trouble than he'd care to admit, and Ralon had guarded the Naxon's eldest daughter before she had been married off. They'd had their share of combat, and were more than equipped to handle a fight, should one arise.

The clanging of metal upon metal was met with high voiced retorts and aggravated screeches.

"How dare you!" That would be Catherine's voice, "sneaking up on me from behind like a common thief!"

"Just because you're not fast enough, don't take it out on me!" Maureen's hair had fallen from its immaculate pile atop her head and the escaped trendles were framing her grin, pressed against her face like the strings of an errant headdress. Catherine was crouched in a fighter's position, muscles straining against the exertion of balancing atop a moving carriage, her eyes glowed with joy and adrenaline.

Jace could not help but laugh at the sight, while love bloomed in his heart. _This rag tag family of theirs, they were beautiful. He would do whatever was needed to be done to keep them safe!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sound of hoof beats in the distance jolted Jace from his silent reverie, and with the span of a few breaths the carriage came to life.

"Milord, orders?" Philippe handed the reins to Ralon and made his way to the carriages exterior, there were two horses picketed at the rear for just this purpose.

"Go ahead then, scout out fifteen miles, I will stay with my ladies." Lord Jace drew his blade and looked up at the ladies in question.

Maureen had exchanged her jerkin for a wide, white burnoose, and she had tied the hood over her head, covering her brown locks from view. With her smooth skin, delicate features, and slight build she would pass for a boy, her sword hung free against her waist beneath the thin fabric, easy access, should she require it. Her mouth was set in resignation against the threat that would possibly come, she was not afraid, but nor was she a killer.

In sharp contrast to Lady Maureen, Catherine stood upon the carriage roof in what could only be described as anxious anticipation. Two swords lay well within her reach, and unlike Maureen, her chocolate eyes blazed with a fierce light. Jace had no doubts as to her ability to kill, she, unlike himself, had chosen this lifestyle.

Philippe chose that moment to ride back at a gallop, the withers of his black gelding trembled, sweat-soaked with exertion.

"Milord! Milord! There are four men, all mounted, and approaching at due north. Also, there are four on foot approaching from the forest, all appear to be armed and in full mail. This is no hunting party."

Unfortunately, it seemed that Jace was out of time.

"Catherine, get in the carriage, we won't fight unless we have to. Maureen, drag her in if you must, but keep her there. I will speak to them before we take further action."

With a mutter about brothers who presumed too much for their own good Maureen cajoled Catherine back through the window.

"Our time will come to fight," she whispered into Cat's ear, "and when it does," her mouth twisted into a wicked grin, "we'll make our enemies regret it." For the moment Catherine was pacified, as the statement was a bit out of character for the mild mannered Maureen. But she was most certainly not happy about her confinement.

Outside the carriage Jace readied himself for battle. He had three men against eight armed soldiers, and he'd be damned before he'd let his ladies fight. They would be the last resort, his secret weapon.

The first rider approached with just enough time for the men to gather their scattered thoughts.

"Good day sir," Lord Jace called out in greeting, "what brings you through these woods?" The man removed his helmet and shook out his tangled ebony curls.

"The name is Sir Keene of Eldorne, my men and I are hunting Scanran traitor's, have you seen any pass this direction?" The big man rested his hand atop the head of his sword, and let his mouth furl into a feral grin.

"I am Lord Jason of Tieren, and my sister and I are merely passing through in hopes of reaching the Midsummer's festival by nightfall. We have been traveling for hours and have seen no Scanran dogs in these parts. Perhaps you were given faulty directions." Jace could not keep his hand from twitching toward his sheathed blade, _oh how he would enjoy running this man through_.

"A sister, you say? Are you not Duke Aaron's son then? My Lord speaks very highly of you in court." Riding over, Sir Keene offered a hand for Jace to shake. Although his tone and handshake portrayed no sign of dislike, his raised eyebrow gave way to the idea that perhaps he did not share his Lord's high opinions of the man in question.

_Very well_, Jace thought to himself, _two can play this game_. Trying not to let his glance linger on the way Sir Keene's sculpted cheekbones accentuated his full lips, Jace felt a stirring of distrust beneath his defenses.

"Thank you sir," he replied with an easy grin, "I will bear the complement to my Aunt, the Lady Adrianna." Jace could not resist tossing back the locks which adorned his own forehead; an act which he knew drove both lads and lasses wild with desire.

"Yes, yes of course," answered the knight flapping his hand in dismissal. "Such a pity what happened to your parents, wasn't it?" Jace clenched his teeth, wincing at the acrid taste of blood flooding over his gums. He had bitten his tongue. But Sir Keene was not yet done, "I just do not see how such a tragedy could have occurred while they were still on Tortallan soil. And yet, after all, your father was a bit overindulgent with his servants. Perhaps if he had been a bit more firm with them than they would still be alive."

As if the slur against his father was not enough, the talk of his parent's untimely death's had Jace's blood boiling. _Who did this pompous jerk think he was?_

A yelp of outrage emerged from inside the carriage. Apparently he had not been the only one to take offense.

"Hush up Cat," whispered Lady Maureen, folding a delicate hand across the open mouth of her friend, "do you want this asshole to realize that we have picked up another travel companion?" Muttering through the glove blocking her expletives Catherine bit down. Hard.

"Ow!!" yelped Maureen angrily, "what was that for?" The two women glared at each other sullenly.

Ignoring the sounds from the carriage he forced himself to provide a good-natured laugh. "Well, it is true, my father was not a man who believed in the whip. Perhaps if he had he would still be alive."

Sir Keene laughed and slapped him on the back with a grin, "Good man, now let's have a look at that sister of yours." Jace clenched his hands into fists as he rode after him to the carriage door, but he had no choice but to follow.

The carriage window opened before Sir Keene had the opportunity to announce himself.

"I, am Lady Maureen of Tieren," the woman in question announced loftily, while offering him her hand to kiss. "And if you are so inclined to talk of my father in such a way again I will be forced to challenge you to a duel."

He laughed, and patted her head like a child, not seeing the way her eyes had darkened to an icy gray. He didn't bother to address her words any further.

"Jace, my friend, do not indulge your sister so, it seems she has adopted the ideals of your mother. I hope all the women in this realm do not think themselves to become that poor excuse of a Lioness. It should be a man that wears the title of Kings Champion!"

If he did not know better, Jace would have thought that he had just heard Catherine growl in anger. A nearly imperceptible shake of his head warned her to keep her temper in check. They simply could not afford revenge.

"Well, just try to ensure that she does not turn out like your mother, poor bitch couldn't keep her legs together--"

The pitiable fool obviously didn't know when to stop talking. Seconds after his utterance the air quality plunged from warm to freezing, yet the drop in temperature was no match for the coldness of steel against the flesh of Sir Keene's throat.

He managed a weak laugh before Jace's sword bit into the large vein of his neck. "Guess you don't agree--" his lips shook with the effort not to cry.

"Shut up you arrogant fool!" Jace trembled with rage as his sword split the flesh of the knight's skin like butter. "How dare you speak of my family in that way," speckles of spit coated Sir Keene's face, "you are out of line to address my sister so, she is a lady and you owe her an apology."

Sir Keene shuddered as he felt the blood slip down his face and his features contorted in mocking anger.

"My Lord!" One of his men tried to rush Jace from behind, but as he increased the pressure of his blade, a raised hand from Sir Keene stopped any other attempts of aid.

Eyes burning with rage and humiliation Sir Keene mumbled an apology to Lady Maureen, and glared at Jace in fury.

"That will suffice for now, but if you ever again say another word against my mother, my sister, or my family, you will find that you will suddenly become well acquainted with the tip of my sword." He turned the point slightly causing the knight to emit a gasp of pain, "do we understand each other?"

"Perfectly," Sir Keene replied, wrenching himself from Jace's grasp. "Come men, we are no longer welcome here, let us continue our hunt elsewhere." He wheeled his horse in the opposite direction and saluted Jace with a mocking grin. "Until we meet again, my friend."

It was not until they could no longer see the five riders that Jace allowed himself to clean his sword. It would be a few miles before that face would leave his mind. _If only he could have gutted that bastard and saved himself the trouble which he was sure was only yet to come._

The clang of metal was audible from within the carriage. _Oh fabulous,_ he thought with an inward grimace, _time to face the music. Perhaps Sir Keene had had something about women after all…_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It seemed like hours before Lord Jace let himself breathe without traces of wariness tightening his chest. He wanted to put off addressing the women ensconced in the carriage as long as he could, but he knew that ignoring them forever would leave them with more steam than he knew how to handle.

Only moments later Jace's pondering was rudely interrupted as three masked men ambushed them from the trees as the foot soldiers emerged from the forest brush. They were surrounded and outnumbered, seven to four.

Needless to say, pandemonium followed. Catherine erupted from the carriage screaming a blood curdling war cry and wielding a double headed axe, her weapon of choice. Lady Maureen leapt nimbly onto the road and threw the first of her daggers with a steady hand, striking a short, brown haired man in the throat.

Lord Jace turned his head to see how the men were fairing, Ralon was crossing blades with a tall red head, and Philippe used his horse to run down a man with a deep scar splitting his face into two; his men were doing fine. A second glance was needed to dispatch the man coming towards him from his geldings left flank, and with one downward sweep Jace felt the tip of his sword bite deep into the unfortunate man's chest.

"Take that you filthy son of a Catharki raider!" With a whoop of success Catherine pushed the bodies of her fallen assailants from the carriage roof. And a swipe of her hand caused the smear of blood decorating her temple to double in size, but she barely noticed.

It was Maureen who was the first to recover in the aftermath of the battle, she had always been the one with the cool head on her shoulders.

"Jace, stop fixing your hair and help me get rid of these bodies! And by the Goddess, Cat please stop looking so damn pleased with yourself. At the very least, humor me and pretend that you aren't happy because you just killed a man." Catherine at least had the decency to look sheepish, but leaning on the head of her bloody axe did nothing to put Maureen's mind at ease. On the other hand, Jace, or should it be Lord Jace, continued to run his fingers through his tousled black locks, and didn't look the least bit ashamed. Pausing, if only to flick a speck of blood from his breeches, he gestured in the direction of the fallen foot soldiers.

"Jason of Tieren! Now is not the time to play the noble." Maureen's eyes were narrowed in irritation.

"Oh, but Lady Maureen, your family has been in the Book of Gold for, for centuries. My Lord must not waste his strength on the likes of me." Catherine had sidled up to stand alongside Jace's mount, a look of feigned adoration pasted beneath wide, innocent eyes. "Oh my Lord!" she squealed once more for good measure.

"Aw, sod off it Cat, now you're just fanning his ego!" With a roll of her eyes Maureen set off after Philippe and Ralon, dragging the body of the man she'd killed towards the river.

Unbeknownst to Jace, Catherine had loosened the cinches on Jace's saddle. So when he tried to ride towards the river, his saddle lacings slipped free and his gelding reared, tossing him off with a plop.

"Mo! Mo! You've gotta see this!" Catherine rolled on the ground, sticks and leaves weaving themselves into her long, dirty tresses. One hand was wrapped around her stomach as she tried to hold in her sobs of laughter.

"I'll make you pay for this you wench!" Jace's face was beet red as he lunged to his feet, dusting dirt from the seat of his pants.

"For starters, don't call me Mo! Two, stop playing with my brother and come help me!" An exasperated sigh slipped back through the trees. Catherine danced away from Jace and rushed to help dump two more dead men into an abandoned latrine.

However, Jace was still hell bent on revenge. He rushed into the clearing trying to tackle Catherine, but in trying to evade him she accidentally tripped on a rock and fell. Unfortunately for Maureen, Jace kept coming, and the impact of their collision carried both of them into the lake.

"Jace I'm soaked!"

"Well how do you think I feel?"

"The water is freezing!"

"Squeals of outrage ensued as the two began to wrestle in the water. _Some things never change_, Catherine thought to herself with a smile. She could still remember the scraps they had gotten into as kids, bickering until they were too exhausted to do anything else.

"My hair!" an outraged shriek echoed as Maureen dunked him beneath the water. Only seconds later found Jace sitting on her chest and alternating between dunks and blows while trying to dodge her flailing thighs.

"Um, milady," Ralon kicked the last of the dirt into the latrine. Their job was done. The bodies had been disposed of, and their campsite had been cleaned and the only remaining evidence was the sanguine liquid seeping into the earth.

"Jace, Mo, it's high time we get a move on! We'll have to ride through the night to make it to Port Legann in time." Catherine ripped off a piece of her tunic with her teeth and tied it around her unruly locks. Her leather hair thong had fallen out during the fight and it was hard to see with the wind blowing curls into her eyes.

Amidst the grumbles, the three friends walked back up the banks to meet Ralon and Philippe, who had readied the carriage and watered the horses. They had three more hours of hard ridding before nightfall hit, and they were too close to the border not to fear the raiders who prowled the woods at night

Lord Jace climbed back into the saddle and prepared himself for the journey to come. "I will take the first watch," he told his men, "why don't you picket your mounts with the spares and catch some shut eye." Ralon and Philippe gratefully climbed onto the carriage roof and folded their tunics as pillows, they were far too tired to be bothered by the uneven dirt path.

"But my Lord," Philippe sat up suddenly, "who is to drive the carriage?"

"Not to worry man, you are in good hands," Catherine reached up over the side of the carriage and patted him on the shoulder as she crawled into the coachmen's seat.

Philippe groaned, "Yeah Cat, that's what I'm afraid of."

The group settled into routine as the two bodyguards slipped into slumber on the roof of the carriage and Lord Jace road alongside.

"Is Maureen ok?" He gazed sidelong at the carriage window.

"She's fine Jace, out cold on her feather pillow." Catherine didn't have to sneer to make her point, Jace always caught on to her sarcasm. But Jace didn't laugh. In fact, he didn't even make a sign that he'd heard her at all. "What's wrong? What aren't you telling me?"

Jace sighed, ran his hand through his hair and slumped down onto his horse's neck. "Stop mothering me Cat." It was hard to understand him while he was muttering into his horses tangled mane, but she could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

"Listen Darlin," she drawled softly, "I ain't nobody's mother, but I love you. An you know that I'm always gonna be around to get your back. Now go string your poor little beauty over with the others an see if you can't catch a couple hours of shut eye before we hit Port Legann. I'll sleep when we get on the ship."

It was only a testament to his exhaustion that Jace complied with only the slightest of mutterings. Apparently real snark takes too much effort. But he picketed Darkmoon an climbed in next to Maureen without too much fuss. Catherine could hear them bickering for a minute about someone's foot in someone else's eye, but they settled down before any real fighting began.

The steady clatter of horses sounded in her ears and the reigns seemed heavier in her hands as the hours wore on. Catherine could feel her mind roaming s her head began to nod. _I wonder what awaits us at the palace,_ she thought, _Thayet must be afraid if she is calling all three of us back!_


End file.
